


One More Night

by ibonekoen



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:37:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibonekoen/pseuds/ibonekoen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in season one, this fic is inspired by Maroon 5's One More Night. So, I recommend <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fwK7ggA3-bU">listening to it</a> while you read this. Sexytimes ahoy. Unbetaed. Any mistakes are my own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tronzler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tronzler/gifts).



Robin of Locksley stands beneath the window of his former bedroom, watching the flickering shadows of candlelight. One more night, he tells himself firmly. _Then I’ll end it. We can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing this. He’s supposed to be the enemy._

As he begins to scale the manor wall, he feels anticipation buzzing just below the surface of his skin, and he knows what awaits him just inside that window. He alights quietly on the interior of the room and drags his tongue across his dry lips. His eyes fall upon the sole occupant, who is turned away from the window, affording him a view of the man's sleek, muscular back. He intends to speak, fire out a witty wisecrack about the years being kind or somehow catch the man's attention with a pithy remark, but his tongue seems to have swollen in his mouth and all he can do is stare.

As the man turns and catches sight of him, his lips twisting into that familiar, cocky smirk that never fails to heat Robin's insides, he knows that he's only fooling himself. As long as he draws breath, he'll keep crawling back through that window, seeking the pleasure of Guy of Gisborne's bed.

~*~*~

It had started, quite simply, with a fight. He’d been a hot headed youth and Guy had known all of the best ways to get under his skin and rile him up. On that particular day, all of that pent-up anger and frustration had exploded in the form of a kiss that had left them both reeling and gasping for breath—and wanting more.

By the time they’d left the barn, both picking straw from their hair and adjusting their clothes, Robin had known their lives were irrevocably changed. He hadn’t left with King Richard’s militia out of fealty; he’d been running from the fear of how strongly he felt for Guy.

Then he’d returned from the Holy Land, a little more broken than he cared to admit, and Guy seemed a great deal angrier than he remembered. They clashed that first day over Guy’s treatment of the Locksley villagers, their tempers flaring, and it had seemed that Guy hadn’t lost the knack of riling Robin up.

“It’s just a ruse,” Guy had growled into Robin’s ear as he’d pressed the shorter man back into the stonework forming the side of the fireplace in the great room of Locksley Manor.

Robin had tried to ignore the thrill that had gone through him as Guy’s teeth had sank into the soft flesh behind his ear, had tried to ignore the fire in his groin and the way his legs parted to accept Guy’s knee slotting against him. “Why do you even need the ruse? You’re a brat, but you’ve never been cruel.”

“It’s the new Sheriff. Things have changed while you were away, Robin. Grown darker.” Guy had pressed his knee harder against Robin’s groin and smirked as Robin’s breath caught. “If you think I’m behaving cruelly, wait until you meet Vaisey.”

Robin had known they were in grave danger of being caught by his servants; they’d stood in the great room, right in the open, and anyone coming from the servants’ quarters would have had a good view of Guy trapping Robin between his body and the fireplace stonework. They would no doubt have been scandalized by the way that Robin’s hips bucked _into_ Guy’s knee, but Robin couldn’t have quite brought himself to care because it had felt so good.

All thoughts of cruel sheriffs and disheartened peasants had flown right out of Robin’s head as Guy’s mouth had latched onto his pulse point and sucked enthusiastically, and his fingers had grasped Guy’s shoulders as he’d come, bucking against the hot weight of Guy’s body.

Guy had moved his hands up to cup Robin’s face and press their foreheads together, and Robin had felt the hot, steel line of Guy’s cock throbbing against his thigh. He’d reached down to unfasten Guy’s trousers, but Guy had halted him with a shake of his head.

“There isn’t time, Robin.” His tone had been tender and the puffs of his breath had tickled Robin’s cheek. “I have to go.” He’d crushed a hard kiss to Robin’s lips before drawing back, and before Robin could call out to him, he’d gone, leaving Robin to catch his breath and deal with the physical and emotional aftermath of their encounter.

~*~*~

“You shouldn’t be here.” Guy has made no move toward Robin since he’d turned to find Robin standing slack-jawed at the window. He’s grateful that he’d locked the door when he’d entered the bedroom, but his heart still beats with trepidation at the thought of a servant overhearing two voices in the master’s quarters and coming to investigate.

Robin’s still standing there at the window with an audacious smirk on his face, and Guy’s fingers ache to hook onto Robin’s slim waist and drag him forward until their bodies are flush. Robin’s lips are a siren’s call to his own, and he can practically taste Robin’s tongue on his. He remains firmly rooted to the spot where he stands though, his cerulean eyes watching Robin cautiously. He wants Robin to come to him, and he know Robin will, if he can outlast his own urges.

He’s rewarded for his tenaciousness by Robin slinking forward, and his eyes track Robin’s pink tongue darting across his lower lip. A low groan tickles his throat, but he swallows it down and lifts his chin. He’s standing there in just his black leather trousers, his tunic already discarded, and it’s easy to see the evidence of his arousal; his eyes flick downward and the corner of his mouth turns upward as he sees the pronounced outline of Robin’s cock in his trousers. Good. He likes knowing he’s not the only one affected by the mere sight of his lover.

Robin’s quiet exhalation of a laugh catches his attention and drags his eyes back up to find the handsome brat’s lips curved into an impish smile.

“Something funny?” Guy growls as his eyes narrow, and he fights hard against a smile as he catches a faint tremor in Robin’s frame.

“Just amused that a man who stares at me as if I am his dinner would tell me to leave.”

Guy shakes his head. “I didn’t say leave. I merely said you shouldn’t be here.” His heart is thumping against his chest, and Robin has nearly closed the distance between them. He’s inching forward a little too slowly for Guy’s liking though, and out of frustration and want, his hand snakes out to clasp Robin’s wrist and jerk him forward until his chest slams into Guy’s.

Guy’s other arm immediately winds around Robin’s waist, holding him against his body, and their lips crash into each other. Their twin groans are muffled, and the rustle of Robin’s sleeve dragging against Guy’s shoulder as Robin’s arm slides around him has goosebumps prickling his flesh.

Robin’s fingers tighten into a fist in Guy’s hair, tugging just hard enough at the strands to send a thrill through Guy, and he opens his mouth willingly as Robin’s tongue nudges his lips.

They shouldn't be doing this; Guy should be briefing Robin, bringing him up to speed on all the things that have changed since he flounced off to fight in the Crusades, informing him of what’s become of his beloved village and the burdensome taxes the nobles and peasants face. He should be doing anything but stripping off Robin’s clothes piece by piece and discarding them. He’s sure the hunger he feels deep down in his bones is shining in his eyes; he’s certain of this because it’s reflected back to him in the smolder of Robin’s bright blue eyes.

They move to the bed in unison, and as Robin’s back hits the mattress and his legs wind around Guy’s waist, Guy withdraws. He smiles at Robin’s soft, protesting exhalation and shakes his head as Robin reaches out to him. “Just give me a moment, will you? I want to look at you.”

Robin huffs out an indignant breath but lets his hands drop down to his sides. “Can’t imagine why you’d rather look at me instead of touching me, but as you wish.”

Guy clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth as his eyes hungrily roam over the planes and contours of Robin’s body. “Perhaps because this is the first time I’ve seen you properly naked in five years and I’d like to see what’s changed?” His brow knits together in a show of remorse that he hopes comes off as concern as his eyes linger on the hellish scar on Robin’s side. His fingers brush over the raised tissue and he doesn’t miss the way Robin flinches. He knows what happened because he was there — even if Robin doesn’t and never will know that — but he asks “What caused this?”

The catch in his voice isn’t fake; even now, the memory of seeing Robin crumple to the sand, a deep gash in his side, haunt his dreams. He’d ordered his men to leave Robin unharmed, as he was not their intended target, but apparently one had gotten slightly overzealous. He’d paid for that mistake with his life, taken by Guy’s own hand.

Robin squirms under the attention. “I went to war, Guy. Even those who come back alive don’t always return unscatched. It’s nothing.”

Guy frowns. The scar, though healed, seems angry and wrong standing out in stark contrast against Robin’s tanned skin. “It is more than nothing, Robin. A wound like this could have killed you.”

“And it very nearly did!”

The words are blurted out on the tail end of an exasperated sigh, and Robin’s eyes widen in astonishment, as if he hadn’t meant to speak them aloud.

Guy, for the most part, just stares; his mouth hangs open slightly, his lips forming the first syllable of something he’d intended to say — a confession, perhaps, of what part he’d played in Robin’s injury? No, Robin’s former bedchambers is no place for such a confession, at least not while they’re both naked.

All thoughts of sex have abruptly been extinguished, and Robin rolls away from Guy, rising from the bed and collecting his trousers. That plucks Guy from his stupor, and he frowns.

“Robin, don’t go.”

Robin laughs, a low, derisive sound. “It’s late, and if we’re not going to fuck, I should head back to camp.” He tugs on his trousers and begins tying the laces.

Guy climbs out of the bed and strides over to Robin; his hand shoots out to grasp Robin’s wrist and he lets his mouth curve into a playful smirk. “Robin, stay, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you back to bed.”

He can see the wariness etched into the lines of Robin’s face, but there’s no mistaking the playful challenge that flashes across his eyes.

Robin’s chin lifts as his hands still, the laces of his trousers wrapped around his fingers. “I’d love to see you try. I’m not the skinny, lightweight youth you remember.”

Guy chuckles and stalks forward, feeling not unlike a svelte predator. Confidence adds a healthy swagger to his step, and his eyes fixate on the sight of Robin’s heaving chest. 

Robin’s lips part and his breath escapes in a ragged pant. His eyes track Guy’s every movement, and Guy swears he can taste the tangy sweetness of Robin’s desire. He comes to a halt a mere half-step from Robin; he’s close enough to feel the heat radiating off of Robin, and he unknowingly synchronizes his breath to Robin’s.

“I think I can manage.” His voice sounds huskier, even to his own ears, resonating deeper through the room, and a visible shudder goes through Robin’s body. His eyes locked onto Robin’s, Guy reaches out with deliberate slowness and guides Robin’s hands away from his waist, extracting the laces from his fingers. He leans in slightly, just enough that he can feel Robin’s puffs of breath against his cheek, and he knows that Robin can feel his own. He smirks as he realizes Robin is trembling.

He carefully undoes the laces, aware of the steady thump of his heartbeat pulsating in his ears, and he draws Robin’s trousers down his hips. He briefly considers asking Robin whether he’s willing to stay now or if he needs to be carried back to bed, but he’s afraid to disturb the taut silence of the room. The air seems electrically charged, as it does right before lightning strikes, and he hates to shatter that aura. So, he shoves Robin’s trousers down to his feet and then bends to wrap his arms around Robin’s thighs, tucking his shoulder into Robin’s midsection. He straightens and lifts Robin up, draping him over his shoulder with ease, and he grins at Robin’s startled laugh. He carries Robin over to the bed and drops him down onto the mattress; he follows a moment later after he’s shimmied out of his own trousers.

He covers Robin’s body with his own, groaning as they shift against each other. Their hips fall into rhythm and their ardent gasps mingle as they kiss. Robin’s blunt nails carve crescent moon shapes into the curve of Guy’s ass, and Guy thrusts hard against Robin in answer.

It’s Robin who comes first; his body draws taut like a bowstring and his mouth falls open in a wordless cry as he spills across Guy’s belly. A handful of thrusts later, Guy is burying his face in the hollow of Robin’s throat in an attempt to muffle his cries of pleasure. He settles against Robin, his hips stilling as he hums into Robin’s skin, and for a moment, the world around them fades away. As their breathing unknowingly falls into rhythm, their heartbeats slow, and Guy must drift off at some point because when he opens his eyes seemingly only minutes later, the fire has died and Robin snores softly beneath him.

He tries to draw away and frowns as the dried come between their bodies snags the dark hair trailing down his abdomen. He forces himself to rise from the bed, stiff limbs screaming in protest, and he feeds logs onto the fire, stoking it back to life. Grabbing a cloth from the wash basin, he wets it and warms it by the fire a moment, then uses it to wipe Robin and his stomachs.

Then, against his better judgment, he crawls back into bed with Robin, who instinctively rolls to face him and molds himself to Guy’s side — all without waking. Guy sighs and draws the covers up around them.

_Just one more night_ , he thinks, but he knows that Robin will continue to be stuck on his body like a tattoo, making him love him no matter what. No matter how dangerous it might be for them both.


End file.
